


Marooned

by KB9VCN



Category: El Hazard: The Magnificent World
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Humor, One Shot, Shipwrecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-28
Updated: 2003-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:15:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8760145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KB9VCN/pseuds/KB9VCN
Summary: Written February 2003; angst/drama/humor; about 5500 words.
This was written in response to a challenge made in a review of "The Phoenix."  Shayla made the wrong choice in that story, but she makes the right choice in this one.
This takes place before the end of the first OVA series, but after the second OVA series and The Alternate World.  More specifically, it takes place during Makoto's "low" time hinted at in Ken Wolfe's "Earth" stories and my own (heh) "Stop Swimming."
This contains adult language and mature themes.  Reader discretion is advised.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written February 2003; angst/drama/humor; about 5500 words.
> 
> This was written in response to a challenge made in a review of "The Phoenix." Shayla made the wrong choice in that story, but she makes the right choice in this one.
> 
> This takes place before the end of the first OVA series, but after the second OVA series and _The Alternate World._ More specifically, it takes place during Makoto's "low" time hinted at in Ken Wolfe's "Earth" stories and my own (heh) "Stop Swimming."
> 
> This contains adult language and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Shayla stood at the controls of a small hovercraft, somewhere out over the ocean, adrift in a howling tropical storm. Her hair and clothing were soaked with sea water, but they still blew back in a torrential wind. It was late morning, but the sky was black as night. Her forward visibility was zero.

She fell back and braced herself as a massive wave came over the craft and drenched her, yet again. She spat out sea water, brushed the wet hair from her face, and scrabbled at the controls again, desperately trying to keep the craft from capsizing.

Shayla glanced behind her. Makoto was kneeling against one side of the craft, as soaked to the bone as she was. He was trying to lash himself to a railing with a short coil of rope.

She was relieved that he was still in the craft, but she scowled as she turned away from him. _Damn it,_ she thought. _Maybe you won't be washed overboard— but if this craft goes down, you'll go down with it. I wish you'd brought Ura with you on this trip. It coulda held you in the boat with its claws. And if, or when, this cruiser goes down, Ura wouldn't drag you down with it..._

Shayla managed to take the craft up and over the next couple of crests, but they were coming too fast now, one after the other. Then the tallest wave yet rose up and washed over the craft.

Shayla swallowed sea water this time. She swore like a sailor, and just barely kept the craft upright and under control. Then she glanced behind her again.

The scowl left her face, and she gasped in sheer panic. _Oh no,_ she thought. _Makoto's gone. He's washed overboard. Oh no._

The next wave caught Shayla unawares. She was washed overboard after him.

—

Shayla's life had never flashed before her eyes.

As a great priestess of fire, she had faced death so many times. But she always seemed to think of only a few memories, when she faced death, before she was lost to the darkness. She had reckoned, during occasional bouts of drunken self-pity, that she was too slow-witted to remember her entire life, like she had heard that she was supposed to do when she faced death.

And this time was no different. She felt herself breathe in sea water before she could stop herself. She didn't know which way was up, and she couldn't see the ocean surface, and she was too tired to even try to right herself. She gagged, and convulsed, and the sea water stung in her throat and lungs. And as she began to drown, she thought of the past few days.

Shayla thought of her reactions when they had first come to her.

Please, Shayla, they had said. We know how you feel about them. We know how you feel about Makoto. And Ifurita.

But please, Shayla, they had said. Do it for him. And her.

It's a damned waste of time, she had said. You know these trips haven't done a damn bit of good. He hears about an old book, or some artifact, or some ruins, something that might help him find her, but it's far beyond the Alliance, halfway across the world. Off he goes, and he never finds a damn thing, and he comes back more upset than before.

We know, Shayla, they had said. But he has to try. Please.

Why can't Fujisawa take him, she had said. Or Afura. Or even Kauru. Damn it, that island is halfway to the far pole. She's the one that should be flying him out over the ocean. Not me. There's storms, this time of year. She's a lousy pilot, but she wouldn't let him drown, if the craft goes down in the middle of the damned ocean.

We know, Shayla, they had said. But they can't go now. Please.

You're asking me to travel alone with him, she had said. It'll take several days. And several nights. Alone with him. And you know how I feel about him. Damn it, you know how I feel.

We know, Shayla, they had said. We know. But we trust you.

Please.

And so, out of the goodness of her heart, she had agreed to take Makoto to the island. She hadn't seen him for a few weeks, and she had gasped when he had come out to board the small hovercraft that they would take.

_Dear God,_ Shayla had thought. _Isn't he EATING? He looks like death. Why is he doing this to himself?... Damn it! Is Ifurita doing this to him? Even though she's gone? And even though... I'm here..._

_Damn it,_ Shayla had thought. _What a waste._

As it turned out, she needn't have worried about being alone with him. He hadn't said fifty words to her during the ride. He had fallen out of the habit of making eye contact with other people, let alone speaking with them. At least she had managed to stuff some food, and some wine, into him. He was in a little better shape now, physically, at least.

But after they had reached the island, she had waited for Makoto, by the craft, while the locals took him to their ruins. And when he had come back, she had known that it had been another waste of time. Those ruins hadn't even offered him the slightest hope. She had seen it, in the way he hung his head.

_Damn it,_ Shayla had thought. _What a waste._

And in her eagerness to get him back, and get this damned trip over with, she had taken them into the middle of a hurricane.

And then, Shayla's thoughts came back to the present, just as her eyes rolled back, and her body went limp, and she was lost to the darkness again. _One of these times,_ she thought, _I'm not gonna make it._

_Maybe this is it._

_Damn it,_ Shayla thought. _What a waste._

—

Shayla imagined that she had been taken up in someone's arms.

She imagined that the surprisingly strong arms had pulled her up, out of the water, and dragged her up on wet sand.

Then she imagined that the arms had held her up, to allow water to drain from her lungs and her throat.

And then, she had imagined that Makoto had kissed her. She had come back to life with his kiss.

_Huh,_ Shayla thought. _I thought I was supposed to see a light at the end of a long dark tunnel. Oh well. This is a lot better._

—

Shayla opened her eyes and looked up. She saw trees. She saw a brilliant clear blue sky. She saw the sun, still high above the deep green sea.

She turned her head, and saw a line of storm clouds, disappearing over the horizon, fading away, like an unwanted memory fading into the past.

She turned her head the other way, and saw Makoto beside her.

Shayla smiled. _If this isn't the afterlife,_ she thought, _it's surely the next best thing._

—

Shayla tried to sit up. She fell into a fit of coughing, and she fell back on one elbow.

"Easy now," Makoto said. "We've both lucky to be alive."

Shayla looked up at him. "You alright?"

Makoto smiled weakly. "Yeah."

She looked down along his body, and saw his bare feet. He had lost his shoes in the ocean. His right ankle was swollen, and most of his right foot was a strange blue color.

"Oh, damn it," Shayla said. "Look at your foot. Is it—"

"No, no," Makoto said. "It's just a bad sprain. I'll just have to stay off my feet for a week or two. My foot must have struck against the craft when I was washed over—"

"The hovercraft!" Shayla gasped. She sat up again. "Where—"

Makoto hung his head. He raised an arm, and gestured. Shayla turned, and looked further along the beach, in a direction she hadn't looked yet. She saw the stern end of the hovercraft— sticking straight up in the air.

Shayla groaned. "I don't suppose it's just buried in the sand?"

Makoto smiled weakly again. "Nope. Broken clean in half. Don't know where the rest of it is.

"We're stranded."

—

Shayla had helped Makoto drag himself further up the beach, to sit against one of the trees. Then she had gone to the remains of the hovercraft, to salvage a few packaged rations. And then, she had done a quick reconnaissance of the tiny island. She had used her lamp to leap high into the air, to survey the ocean around them. And then, she had cursed to herself.

_Damn it,_ she had thought. _Why did this have to happen to me? Why did it have to happen on my watch? Afura could have flown away, and Kauru could have coasted across the ocean. Either one of 'em could have gone on for two or three days, sleeping in the ocean at night, floating with a life-saver from the hovercraft. They'd probably be able to reach the mainland._

_But it had to happen on my watch. I can't fly, and I can't coast across the ocean. And I can swim, but I can't swim that far. Hell, I couldn't swim to save my life, a couple of hours ago._

_Makoto had to save my life. Again._

_I'm the great priestess of fire, trained for battle and in peak physical condition— and a scrawny basket case with a sprained ankle had to save my sorry hide. Again._

_Damn it._

Shayla came back past the ruined hovercraft again. She pulled the packages out of it, and carried them in her arms. Then she returned to Makoto. She sat down heavily against a second tree, next to him. "Well, it's like this— OUCH!!"

She looked down, and found a coconut in her lap. It had just bounced off her head. Makoto looked at her, as she grinned sheepishly and rubbed the top of her head. Then he looked up at the tree. "You must've just shaken it loose."

Shayla picked up the coconut. "Oh well. Let's crack it oh— Huh. It's already cracked. Well, maybe it hasn't spoiled." She pulled the coconut into nearly equal halves, spilling as little of the milk as she could. She handed one half to Makoto.

He sniffed it. "It's fresh. It must have only just cracked... when it fell on your..."

And Makoto chuckled, possibly for the first time in weeks.

Shayla growled. "Not a word, Mizuhara. Not. One. Word."

—

Shayla tried again, between mouthfuls of coconut. "Well, it's like this.

"I saw a couple other islands, from the air. But they're smaller than this one. Just bits of rock. I'll swim out to them, and jump from them, tomorrow, just to make sure I can't see anything else from them. But I couldn't see the mainland. And I have no idea where we are. We could be a hundred kilometers off course, or more. And this island is so small, it's probably not even charted.

"Water's no problem. There's a little spring in the middle of this island. It's made a nice pool of clear fresh water. And there's plenty of dead wood and driftwood for a fire.

"The problem is food. We've got a few days' rations here, from the hovercraft. We've got some coconuts. And between us, we might be able to identify and harvest some edible roots and leaves. And maybe I can catch us some fish. But, even at best... we're gonna starve within a month.

"Roshtaria won't know we're in trouble for at least a few days. They might not start looking for us for a week or two. And who knows how long it'll take 'em to find us... Or how long they'll keep looking..."

Shayla fell silent.

Makoto tried to reassure her. "Don't worry, Shayla. Have faith. They'll find us—"

Shayla suddenly snarled. "Have FAITH!? In WHAT!? Damn it, Makoto, we're gonna DIE!! There's no way in HELL they're gonna find us in time!!

"Have you ever starved, Makoto? HAVE you!? *I* have! Before I was a priestess. When I was a kid. When I was poor. It's no fun, Makoto! We're gonna wish we had drowned!

"You stop eating long enough, and everything hurts! Your bones hurt! Your muscles hurt! Your heart starts to hurt every time it beats! And you can't sleep! You move around, and your body bruises, and your bones splinter! But it still takes you weeks to die!! You'll come so close to death, so many times, but you won't die for weeks!! You just lie there and suffer, and rot!!

"So don't you tell ME to have FAITH! What has YOUR faith in that damned demon god done for YOU!? You haven't even been EATING!! And you're as pale as a ghost!! And you hardly talk to me, or even look me in the EYES!! And if it wasn't for your fucking FAITH in that damned DEMON-GOD, we wouldn't even BE in this—"

Shayla cut herself off. But it was far too late. The life had gone out of Makoto. He had slumped against his tree and dropped his half of the coconut in his lap.

Shayla stared at him.

Then she flung her half of the coconut into the ocean, in anger.

And then, she hung her head, shook it, and chuckled. "And now I'm wasting food. Damn it."

She stood, and walked away. "I'll collect some wood, and start us a fire, before night falls."

She mumbled to herself, even as she walked away from Makoto. "I'm no damn good for anything else, but at least I can start a damn fire..."

—

Shayla opened one eye. Then she propped herself up on one elbow. She had been sleeping, curled up near the fire, but something had just awakened her. She looked into the night, and blinked a few times. What was that?, she thought. I coulda swore I heard something... like somebody gasping for breath...

And then, Makoto screamed.

Shayla went straight through the fire between them to his side. _What the hell!?,_ she thought. _What's wrong with him? Just a bad dream, maybe—_

She kneeled beside him, and got a look at his face. She looked into his wide eyes, just as he began to sob hysterically. _Dear God,_ she thought. _That's not the face of a sane person. He's gone crazy._

Makoto suddenly writhed, kicking and beating his fists against the ground. He began to scream again. "NO!! IT'S NOT FAIR!! IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS!! IT'S JUST NOT FAIR!!"

Shayla grabbed him, holding him tightly, more to keep him from hurting himself that to comfort him. He struggled against her. Then the fight left him. He clutched at her, and buried his face in her shoulder, and continued to sob, but more quietly now. "It's not fair... It's just not fair..."

Shayla shushed him. "I know, hon... I know..."

She knew that he wasn't having nightmares about being stranded. He was having nightmares about... Ifurita. About losing her.

_Dear God,_ Shayla thought again. _I don't think I ever threw a fit this bad. I sure hope not. I sure hope I've never scared Afura like Makoto's scaring me now._

_Oh, Afura,_ thought Shayla. _I'd give anything to see your smug face now. I wish you were here, to comfort him, instead of me._

_And I wish you were here, to comfort me, after he goes back to sleep, and I start crying..._

—

The sun was high in the sky when they both woke up.

Shayla had dragged the back half of the hovercraft up the beach, to their impromptu campsite. She set it on end again, near the coals of the fire. She plopped down with a sigh, and wiped sweat from her brow. Then she wriggled over, and under the lip of the hovercraft.

She grinned at Makoto. "Better get under here. The sun is gonna get hot. As pale as you are, you'll get one hell of a sunburn."

Makoto looked at her nervously.

Shayla grinned wider. "Aw, c'mon. There's plenty of room. And I won't bite. I'm not THAT hungry yet."

He crawled to her side, on his hands and knees, and drew himself into the shadow of the hovercraft, and smiled in gratitude.

Shayla tried to keep smiling. "Heard any good jokes lately?"

Makoto chuckled quietly to himself. "Did you ever hear the one about the boat carrying a load of red paint? Where it collided with the boat carrying a load of blue paint?"

"No," said Shayla. "What happened?"

Makoto grinned. "Both crews were marooned."

Shayla frowned, and scratched her head. "I don't get it."

Makoto sighed. Then his head drooped. After a minute or two, he spoke, without looking at her. "Uh, Shayla? About last night—"

Shayla tried to reassure him. "Aw, don't worry about it. I know what... Well, no. I have no idea what you're going through. No one knows what to do about you, you know? Your ability, and your link with her...

"But... Look, Makoto. We're in for a rough time here. We had better make our peace, and, uh, support each other, as much as we can. If you'll give the inspirational speeches a rest, I'll try not to jump down your throat. Deal?"

Makoto smiled again, still without looking at her. "Yeah, OK."

After another minute or two, he turned to look at Shayla. "Uh... Shayla? What are you doing?"

Shayla had folded her legs up, sat up straight, rested her hands on her knees and closed her eyes. She opened one eye and scowled at him. "What does it LOOK like I'm doing?... I'm meditating. It's not as if there's anything else to do."

"Sorry," Makoto said. "It's strange, to see... you doing it..."

Shayla sighed. "It's part of my training. The 'bliss of cosmic understanding', and all that crap. Never really understood it... Hey, Afura's been instructing you, hasn't she? Why don't you give it a try. Maybe it'll, uh, help..."

"Yeah, OK." Makoto copied Shayla's pose, favoring his injured ankle. He closed his eyes, and fell silent and still. And his breathing became slow and regular, and his face became calm.

Shayla tried to resume her own meditation, but she opened one eye and scowled at Makoto again. _Damn it,_ she thought. _He's already better than me at even THIS._

She resisted the urge to sigh. She didn't want to make a noise, and disturb Makoto. But she felt like sighing. _Here we are,_ she thought. _Stranded on a deserted island, MEDITATING. I can think of other things I'd rather be doing with him..._

—

Twelve days had passed. Or eleven. It was twelve, by Makoto's count. Shayla had lost count after seven days, argued with him that it had been six days, and nearly set the entire island on fire during the argument.

Makoto still sat under the back half of the hovercraft, near a crackling fire. It was early evening, but he had found himself prone to cold shivers of late. And his ankle wasn't healing as fast as it should have done.

He was getting used to being hungry. He found himself wishing that he had been more careful about eating regularly before he had taken this trip. He didn't have much to fall back on.

He looked up, past the fire, out to sea. And he watched Shayla.

Shayla stood perfectly still, in shallow water. She held a make-shift light spear in her arms, and her eyes followed the waves. Her wild hair was soaked and slicked back. Her wet skin glowed in the early evening sun. She was perfectly poised. She looked like a golden statue, come to life.

A few days ago, she had taken her already ruined priestess uniform and torn it into strips. Then she had wrapped the strips around her, like a two-piece swimsuit.

_What a tired cliche,_ Makoto had thought, in a strangely detached way. _I wonder why women always do that when they're stranded on deserted islands. Every movie that I ever saw, and every old TV show, where they get stranded, the woman's clothes get torn right off her— or she tears them off herself._

He had asked her why she'd done it, against his better judgment.

It's damned hot, you know, she had said. And it's just us. Hey, why don't you take that shirt off. Might as well be comfortable.

He didn't know if it was only coincidence, that he had begun to shiver, shortly after she had said it. He had hoped that it was only his hunger, and his weakness, that was making him shiver.

He was pondering this again, when he heard loud splashing noises.

Shayla whooped, and held up her spear. She had snagged something that didn't actually look edible, at first glance. It was a dark green color, and slimy, and it had at least two or three too many eyes in the part that didn't actually look much like a head.

She came up to him, with a big silly grin, and swung her spear up to hold the wriggling thing in his face. "This'll give us two or three more days."

Makoto gulped. "Uh... if you say so..."

"Aw, don't worry." Shayla turned her spear around and shook her catch off its point. Then she produced a long knife, kneeled over the thing, and began to clean it. He was grateful that she had thought to clean it out of his view.

"You can have the meat," she said as she worked. "I'll take the brain and the entrails. I learned to like the parts no one else likes, when I was a kid. Those parts have more nutrients, anyway."

She worked for a minute or two, kneeling over the thing. Then she held up two strips of meat. She laid them on a stone within the fire. She had put her hands into the fire, without burning herself, and without a second thought.

Makoto looked down at the fish meat. Then he looked back up.

Shayla had held herself up straight, and stretched her arms out, and sighed deeply. She ran a hand through her long wet hair. Then she saw him, looking at her.

She smiled slyly. "Like what you see?" she asked quietly.

"Looks good enough to eat," Makoto said, also quietly.

"I wasn't talking about the fish, you know," Shayla said.

Makoto didn't answer. _Yeah, I know,_ he thought. _Neither was I._

Shayla turned back to the remains of the fish. She continued to pick at them, putting a few less choice bits on the stone within the fire, and stuffing a few unsavory bits directly into her mouth. And she continued to talk. "Makoto... For once, I'm gonna say it.

"You know... It'll be two weeks soon. Whether or not I counted wrong. And every day that goes by, it's more likely they're not gonna find us. There's no more rations, and no more coconuts. And this catch was pure luck. I could fish for another month and get nothing. This might be our last meal, Makoto."

Makoto sighed. "Shayla... I know all that. Don't—"

"NO, Makoto," said Shayla. "Let me say it. Damn it, for once, I'm gonna say it.

"Makoto, we're gonna start growing weak soon. Real soon. You're already weaker than you should be, even... considering... And then, we're both gonna lie down and die. Slowly. Badly... Do we have to die alone, Makoto? Shouldn't we... Can't we... Oh... DAMN it! Why can't I say it!? Even now!? Why can't I just come right out and—"

"Shayla," said Makoto. "Stop it. I know what you want to say. But it's better if you don't say it. It's better if we don't—"

Shayla leaned over, and held a hand over her eyes, and shivered herself. "How can YOU say THAT, Makoto!? We're gonna die! Did that damned demon god screw up your brain so badly that you can't see that!? How many times do I have to tell you!? We're gonna DIE!!

"She's gone, Makoto! But I'm here! And we're gonna DIE..."

She trailed off, still leaning over, away from him. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

Then Shayla held herself up straight again. She was still turned away from him, but he could see that she was holding up the knife that she had used to clean the fish.

She spoke again. Her voice had a hard edge that terrified him. "Makoto? You know I'm stronger than you. You know I could just take what I want. I could make you do it, even if you're a man. And no one would ever even know.

"Makoto. PLEASE. Don't leave me to think about doing that. If you refuse me now, I don't know if I can keep myself from—"

"Alright, Shayla," said Makoto. He prayed that she wouldn't hear the fear in his voice. "That's ENOUGH. STOP it."

Shayla leaned over again. She held the knife up to her face, and briefly wondered how much it would hurt to cut out her tongue.

She dropped the knife, and began to cry. "Ngh... Oh, GOD... Makoto... I'm... sorry..."

"Alright, Shayla," he said again. "It's alright. I... We... Yes, Shayla. If that's what you want. Yes. It's alright."

Shayla looked up at him, and blinked, and rubbed at her eyes.

Makoto gave her the saddest smile she had ever seen. "Shayla... You're right. It's stupid to die alone.

"Let me eat this fish. And let me rest. I'm afraid that I don't feel very well, and... Well, let me rest for awhile, OK?

"Tonight. After the sun sets. If that's what you want. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it. And it's stupid to die alone."

Shayla stared at him.

Then she reached into the fire, and took up the cooked strips of fish, without burning herself. She handed them to Makoto.

And then, she stood up, and walked away, to let Makoto eat and rest, and to wait for the sun to set.

—

Makoto couldn't stop shivering. He stared into the fire, and tried to calm himself.

He shivered violently.

He found himself looking at Shayla's discarded knife. It was within reach. He could use it while Shayla wasn't looking...

_No,_ Makoto thought. _That's not what I want._

_I know what I want now._

Makoto turned back to the fire, and stared into it.

_Forgive me,_ Ifurita, _he thought._

_Forgive me for failing you. Forgive me for not finding you._

_Forgive me for leaving you to die. Forgive me for dying._

_And forgive me for this._

_Forgive me,_ Makoto thought. _Forgive me for being human._

—

Shayla stood well away from the fire, and Makoto. She stood at the edge of the deep green sea, facing away from the setting sun. She looked out at the stars visible in the dark sky to the east.

_Why do I feel so horrible?,_ she thought. _I'm finally gonna get what I've always wanted._

_Never mind that I've been prancing around half-naked for almost a week. Never mind that I've been waiting on him hand and foot, like a stupid little girl._

_Never mind that I've said terrible things. Never mind that I've argued with him, and threatened him. And never mind that I cried like a stupid little girl. He probably only agreed to it because he felt sorry for me. Or because he was still frightened of me._

_And the whole slowly-starving-to-death ending kinda puts a damper on things, doesn't it?_

_But still,_ Shayla thought. _I'm gonna get what I've always wanted. And it's for the best._

_Isn't it?_

_ISN'T it?_

_If it's for the best... why do I feel so horrible?_

_Oh, GOD... I'm losing my mind. That star just moved._

_Hey. That's not a star. That's a—_

Shayla's face lit up, and she pumped her fist in the air. _Well, I'll be DAMNED!,_ she thought. _They're coming for us!! Afura, bless your pointy little head!! You found us!! And you did it in less than two weeks!! How the hell did you do it so fast!?_

She opened her mouth to whoop with delight. But then, the sound died in her throat. Her face fell, and she dropped her arm. And then, she fell to her knees, and sobbed.

_Oh, NO,_ Shayla thought. _Not NOW! Damn it, not NOW!!_

_WHY!? WHY did it HAVE to be NOW!? Why couldn't it have been TOMORROW!? Or even a couple of hours later!? WHY NOW!?_

She glanced back, behind her. Makoto hadn't moved from under the ruined hovercraft. He was still facing the fire. And he was still facing west.

_He hasn't seen it yet,_ Shayla thought. _Unless he moves, he won't see it. We could still..._

_No. If the rescue party is this close, we wouldn't have time._

_But... They're not coming directly towards us, are they? Yeah. Look at the way the light is moving. They're still moving in a general search pattern. The back half of our hovercraft must be hiding the fire from them._

_They haven't seen us yet,_ Shayla thought. _But they wouldn't give up. I could be with Makoto, and let them continue to search in the meantime. There'd be time, even if they saw us in the next pass. I could still be with him. I could make him mine. And I could finally make him forget about Ifurita._

_But what if they DO give up? What if I let them slip away? What if I condemned us both to death... just for one night together? Am I willing to take that chance?_

Shayla glanced back again. _Hell, even if I let them slip away, wouldn't that be better?,_ she thought. _One night with me, and then dying young... Instead of wasting the rest of his life, pining for that damned demon god? Wouldn't that be better? He'll probably go completely insane in a few months, the rate he's going, anyway. And as for ME..._

And then, she held a hand over her eyes, and sobbed again. _Oh, GOD,_ she thought. _I AM losing my mind._

She raised her other arm, and fired her lamp. She sent a flare high into the early night sky.

And she sobbed.

—

Makoto hobbled towards Shayla. "Thank God! And thank God you saw them! If you hadn't shot that flare, they might have..."

He trailed off, as he came to her, and saw that she was crying. She grinned at him, and spoke between sobs.

"Just in time— Huh?— You're safe now... I'm sorry— Makoto... I wish— I'd done— better...

"I'm gonna have— to get this out— of my system... I'm not lettin'— Afura find me— like THIS—"

And then, Shayla put her hands to the sides of her head, and took a deep breath, and wailed.

Makoto kneeled before her, and held her, as she cried herself out. "You did fine, Shayla."

He began to cry with her. "You did the best that you could... We're both... doing the best... that we can..."

—

Shayla watched Kauru bound out of the rescue hovercraft, to embrace Makoto. She sighed, and shook her head, but she said nothing.

Afura walked up to her, grinning. "Just look at you, all dressed down for a day at the beach. Are you sure you want to be rescued?"

Shayla ignored the first part of Afura's taunt, but she winced at the second part. "Yeah, yeah. How the hell did you find us this quickly?"

Afura grinned wider. "Why, Shayla. Have FAITH! I AM the great priestess of wind. Did you think I wouldn't know that there was a hurricane, even on the far side of the planet? And do you think I wouldn't know which way you'd be blown off course?

"And I know you. I knew you'd be so impatient that you'd go off into the middle of a hurricane. But I wish you'd learn to THINK. I REALLY didn't have time for this, you know. If I had, I would have taken Makoto on this trip myself."

_C'mon, Afura,_ thought Shayla. _That's enough._

"Yeah, yeah," she said again. "You brought food, right? And a bottle?"

"It's in the back of..." Afura trailed off, as Shayla turned away from her, to climb into the rescue craft.

Afura frowned, crossed her arms and sighed. "'Thank you, Afura, for saving my life. Thank you for cleaning up after my mistakes. Thank you for—'"

Shayla paused at the side of the craft, and responded without turning back. "ENOUGH, Afura. Give it a REST, wouldja?"

Afura grimaced. "Oh. Sorry... Um, I'm glad you're alright."

Shayla climbed up into the craft. "Yeah. So am I, Afura. Uh, thanks."

Kauru brought Makoto to the craft, nearly in tears herself, babying Makoto as he hobbled along. "Oh, Mr. Makoto! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry we couldn't find you sooner!"

Makoto smiled. "No, no, Kauru. Don't worry. And thank you. You came just in time."


End file.
